


we only see each other at weddings and funerals

by InkBlotAngel



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel
Genre: A little MockingMay if you squint, AOS Fic Net 2.0's AU August 2020, AU - The Umbrella Academy, AU August, Gen, Inspired by The Umbrella Academy, S.H.I.E.L.D. Ladies, Some MayDaisy Rights, Umbrella Academy AU, Women of S.H.I.E.L.D., absolutely shameless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkBlotAngel/pseuds/InkBlotAngel
Summary: On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.Sir Nicholas Fury, eccentric billionaire and retired Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., resolved to locate and adopt as many children as possible.He got seven of them.An absolutely shameless AU ofThe Umbrella Academyfeaturing the S.H.I.E.L.D. ladies.
Relationships: Bobbi Morse & Yo Yo Rodriguez, Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May & Bobbi Morse, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Minor Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons - Relationship
Comments: 23
Kudos: 49
Collections: AOS AU August 2020





	we only see each other at weddings and funerals

**Author's Note:**

> For [AoS FicNet 2.0's AU August](https://aosficnet2.tumblr.com/post/625195984485515264/agents-of-shield-au-august) Day 30: Your Favorite TV Show
> 
> As it says on the tin, this is absolutely shameless but so ridiculously fun to write, so I'm not sorry ;)
> 
> This is meant as a one-shot only If you're familiar at all with _The Umbrella Academy_ , you'll recognize the structure though I hope you like the liberties I've taken here. If you're not... well, I hope this encourages you to check out the show, especially if you're curious about what happens to everyone!
> 
> Title from the first episode.

_Click-clack_. _Click-clack. Click-clack._

The sound of the stapler echoed in the near-empty Administration department, a tuneless yet consistent beat that was almost white noise, a luxury afforded to those who stayed in the office well beyond hours. In one of the occupied cubicles, Melinda continued to work, undeterred by the slightest tremble in her otherwise graceful hands as she deftly sorted the Level 3 paperwork on her desk.

It was only after the last of the papers were organized in neat piles off to one side of the table when Melinda finally indulged in a moment for herself. Leaning back against her seat, she glanced up at the clock and frowned at the time. 10:58 p.m., that certainly explained why she was feeling out of sorts. She stood, stretching her legs briefly, and made her way to the adjoining pantry for some water.

There was no one else there, so she took her time refilling her tumbler, her attention occasionally straying to the large TV screen. The late-night news had just started, and just when she was about to head out, a particular headline rooted her on the spot.

_Nicholas “Nick” Fury, billionaire and the former director of intelligence and law-enforcement agency S.H.I.E.L.D., is dead at 70._

After the initial shock wore off, Melinda turned on her heel and walked back to her desk, immediately reaching for her handbag. She rummaged through its contents with shaking hands until she finally found what she was looking for—a prescription bottle, freshly filled to the brim.

Popping it open, she shook out her recommended dosage and swallowed the pills immediately, chasing the familiar bitter taste coating her throat with a big gulp of water.

The Cavalry couldn’t kick in fast enough.

* * *

_On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began._

_Sir Nicholas Fury, eccentric billionaire and retired Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., resolved to locate and adopt as many children as possible._

_He got seven of them._

* * *

**Number One**

**“The Scientist”**

The binary moons were always a spectacle to see, even if they were _all_ she could see.

Jemma smiled to herself as she stepped outside after completing her morning routine, or what she had established as one anyway. According to her calculations, there were still a few months to go before Maveth’s next sunrise, roughly 18 years after the previous one.

If Jemma’s life these days revolved around looking forward to that, it couldn’t be helped—not that there was anything else happening in this planet lightyears away from Earth and her family.

The workstation she called home these days was neat and organized: a dedicated space where she worked on Project Distant Star Return for most of her waking hours, and then a section off to the other side she designated as personal space, living room and bedroom in one, as cozy as she could make it with stark furniture. Compartmentalized. Sensible. Functional.

Jemma pulled out her phone from her pocket and turned on the video recording feature. She panned across the barren landscape of Maveth, making sure to capture the moons, before switching to the front camera, bare face and sad eyes lighting up the screen.

“Fitz…” she trailed off with a sigh, scrambling for something new to say. “I know I said the planet was fascinating, but it’s been _dreadful_ lately. I haven’t found any new evidence of the old civilization in a week, I might have—”

_Beep._

She jumped at the unexpected sound of a message alert, nearly dropping the gadget in the process. Though she had managed to program this phone to be able to communicate to Earth—an achievement that actually _challenged_ her—signals were beyond her control. Messages came far and few in between, often just to check in on her siblings and get updates on Fitz after he came out of his coma.

Jemma quickly ended the video recording and swiped the notification open, her expression clouding over with sadness at the message. Resigned, she stepped back inside and started packing her personal belongings for the inevitable journey home, those two words ringing loudly in her head.

_Dad’s dead._

She always prided herself on her power to be able to solve things as they come. But this was going to be beyond her abilities as The Scientist.

**Number Two**

**“Slingshot”**

The fist missed its target and hit the concrete wall instead—a painful crack, and the perpetrator cried out in pain.

Elena only had a grin to offer as the man whipped around in confusion, and her smile grew even wider as his eyes land on her hand resting protectively on his latest victim’s shoulder. She raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him and gently pushed the unharmed girl out of the way; this only seemed to piss him off even more, and he snarled in response.

He made half a step forward towards her when, to his astonishment, he felt a whooshing sensation, and then his wrists were bound by handcuffs. He looked at the woman again and saw the last of her long hair falling back into place as if she had moved to him and back in the blink of a second.

“What—?” he spat out with a glare as he tried to free himself—surely, she couldn’t have secured him properly in such a short amount of time? But the handcuffs did not give, instead holding on firm and tight.

“Who do you think you are?” he yelled, eyes flashing. “Stay out of our business!”

“Not if you treat people that way,” Elena replied evenly, with just a hint of righteous anger evident in her voice. The fiery Latina in her wanted to indulge herself by punching him, but that wasn’t part of her job description.

She _did_ allow herself a small fist-pump at the sight of him locked in the S.H.I.E.L.D. containment module. It had taken her and the S.T.R.I.K.E. team almost two months to track down their target, a notorious figure in trafficking gifted individuals. Having him in their custody and protecting the world from him was a victory.

Elena was still smiling triumphantly when she felt Mack come up to her from behind. “Mission accomplished, Turtle-Man,” she declared, tilting her head sideways to look at her field partner. A recent addition to S.H.I.E.L.D., Mack was a handsome man that towered over her, all six feet and four inches of him belying a gentle soul and easygoing smiles that came frequently the more time they spent together.

But today, there was no trace of that lightheartedness. Instead, Mack was looking at her with a downward turn on his lips and solemn eyes. It wasn’t about the mission—she of all people knew how badly Mack wanted to catch this guy himself.

It had to be something else.

“What is it?” she demanded without any preamble, her pulse racing. “What’s wrong?”

For all the superspeed she was gifted with, the Slingshot couldn’t get home fast enough.

**Number Three**

**“Mockingbird”**

She _could_ say something. A turn of phrase and she would be out of her misery.

Instead, Bobbi put on her most winsome smile to appease the crowd of photographers, posing for them in various angles and twirling gracefully to give them shots of the devastating McQueen number that was her uniform for the evening.

Undercover in plain sight. Being one of the Academy’s most recognizable faces meant she couldn’t risk a disguise lest she would be made, so instead S.H.I.E.L.D. often utilized her fame for access to the world’s most exclusive, high-profile events. All things considered, it wasn’t the worst job—though more often than not she wished she could just show up in her suit and be more than just a pretty face.

Tonight was a charity auction of some sorts, although there were whisperings that an Asgardian artifact was the pièce de résistance. She had been sent in with a small backup team disguised as the catering staff to confirm the intel and, if so, intercept the item before any bidding commenced.

She sighed inwardly. Times like these made it extremely tempting to use her abilities and manipulate the situation in their favor, but she’s learned the hard way that being able to literally will her wishes to come true sometimes came with unforeseen consequences of its own.

Her long thick lashes created a halo in her vision as the spate of camera flashes started to strain her eyes, and so Bobbi gave one last wave to the paparazzi before walking to the end of the hallway, her steps slow yet measured so the carpeting wouldn’t snag on her stilettos.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the room and Bobbi looked up and around, trying to see what was happening. She frowned, confused at the sight of the media whispering to each other, and then—

“ _Bobbi!_ ” a journalist yelled, this time less excited and more predatory, a scoop waiting to happen. “Have you heard?”

Heard what? She was about to retort about how stupid of a question it was considering she was in their line of sight the past two minutes when a chorus of her name and a slew of questions followed. "Did you know?" "When was the last time you spoke to your father?”

“ _Are you wearing Valentino to the funeral?_ ”

For once, the Mockingbird was at a loss on what to say.

**Number Four**

**“The Clairvoyant”**

_“I knew that I had to bring you all back together, one way or another,” he said unapologetically. “The fate of the world depended on it.”_

The next thing Raina knew, she was blinking against the faint sunlight filtering through the bleary windows of her dingy rented apartment, her father’s voice a distinct echo in her head. She sat up in bed and stretched her arms, a furrow over her brow as she tried to make out of her latest prophecy.

Raina hadn't dreamed of her father in a while; the instances came far and few in between ever since she left the Academy to go her way. She was never really a team player to begin with, preferring to operate by herself. It didn't help matters she had an ability she couldn't actively control, unlike her siblings, her only consolation being that at least she _had_ powers, unlike one of them.

Her precognition was also iffy at best, often subject to interpretation and other unforeseen factors. She was a little better at reading them now, a skill she honed by herself once she was deemed useless by Dad.

Even against her will to think of Nick Fury, Raina found herself going through her self-established ritual. First, recollection—in her dream, she and Dad had been in Afterlife where she was born to an unpregnant woman thirty years ago.

For the most part, they were just talking in the Pavilion, overlooking the beautiful Himalayan mountain range. Although Raina remembers now, she had distant memories of seeing Elena with her arms cut off, Bobbi with her throat slit open, Melinda with glowing white eyes, and… _Number Five_? That was impossible—they haven’t seen her in decades, since she went missing when they were thirteen.

Then, an eyepatch, the one and very same she couldn’t remember seeing her Dad without, on the floor of his study, discarded.

Raina was in between deciding whether to approach this dream literally or figuratively when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. _Mom_ , the screen flashed.

The Clairvoyant didn’t need her powers to know what news awaited her on the other end of the line.

* * *

Melinda looked up at the building that used to be home, conflicted with feelings of nostalgia and apprehension. She hadn’t been here ever since the Academy parted ways with the death of Number Six, the tragedy finally severing the fragile ties that had barely kept them together ever since Number Five disappeared.

Five. Six. She snorted. Not for the first time she wondered what Dad was thinking when he decided to adopt all of them. He didn’t seem to have an ounce of humanity in him, much more any sense of paternity. Didn’t even bother giving them names, just numbers according to the order he found them.

Melinda being Seven and the last, she often considered herself an afterthought, perhaps even the reason Fury didn't adopt any more children. She was utterly unremarkable, ordinary, and maybe that was his wake-up call that not all 43 unique children born that day were gifted.

She centered herself with a deep breath and then pushed the front doors open, not really sure what she expected to find. Everything was almost as she remembered it to be, with nary a sign of how the man of the house departed this world barely a day ago.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing in the high ceilings. “Anyone home?”

“The nerve of you calling it _home_ ,” a voice replied, her tone dripping with disdain. Melinda rounded the corner at the end of the hallway and came face to face with Elena. Of course, she would be here already—she had superspeed after all. Her sister raised an eyebrow and frowned down at her, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are _you_ even doing here?”

“Leave her alone, Yo-Yo,” Bobbi admonished from the top of the stairs, golden hair a halo against the light streaming from the window behind her. Elena rolled her eyes and sulked off, while Bobbi descended the stairs until she towered over Melinda.

A pause as they took each other in, and then Bobbi broke into one of her grins. “Sestra,” she greeted, folding her sister into her embrace which Melinda gratefully accepted, relieved to find at least one ally among her siblings. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, it’s been a while, eh?” Bobbi answered as they parted. “We should have lunch, maybe once we settle everything here? I’d love to catch up with you.”

She looped her arm across Melinda’s shoulders while Melinda’s own curled against the small of Bobbi’s back, the gesture coming to them as effortlessly as if they were never away from each other for years.

“For now,” and here, Bobbi pouted. “Everyone’s in the den already.”

They headed towards the direction Elena disappeared off to, and if not for Bobbi by her side Melinda would have dreaded every step of the way. Their siblings had never treated her the same way again, not since their last mission together in Bahrain cost the life of a gifted individual, also born the same day they all were but not adopted by Fury. Her own abilities were out of control. Melinda had never quite forgiven herself for that incident.

As Bobbi had promised, the Academy—what was left of them anyway—were assembled in the den being served coffee or tea by their butler, Phil. They seemed to be in the middle of a heated conversation already with nary a glance spared towards them as they entered.

“He must have known something was going to happen,” Jemma was saying, her brilliant brown eyes flashing. “This is _Dad_ we’re talking about. Maybe he even faked his own death!”

Phil sighed as if this wasn't the first time the topic was brought up. "I saw him with my own eyes, I was here" he explained patiently, setting a tray of snacks on the console table in the center of the room. Phil was their Dad’s oldest companion, having been around even before Mom. Even when the children all left, he stayed behind to maintain the house and assist Fury with his needs, eccentric as they could be. “I’m telling you, Miss Jemma, it was a heart attack.”

“Dad’s old,” Elena said dismissively, throwing a stress ball to one end of the room and speeding to catch it, and back. “He’s like, what, seventy? About time the ol’ man kicked the bucket.”

“But Raina said—”

“Raina said what?” Here, Elena rolled her eyes again. “You know we can’t rely on Raina’s powers for anything. If we did, Five and Six would’ve still been here.”

“Hey, I’m right here!” The Clairvoyant in question protested, glowering at her.

Bobbi, ever the diplomat, decided it was time to step in before things got too far. “Guys,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. Even without her powers, she could command a room easily, and everyone stopped bickering immediately. Once their attention was on her, she continued, “Whether there’s something afoul doesn’t change the fact Dad is gone.”

“But Bob,” Jemma interjected, looking at her sister as if asking for permission to speak. “We couldn’t find Dad’s eyepatch. It’s missing. You know he's never without it.”

Raina piped up, "In my vision, it was on the floor of his study, but it was the first thing I looked for when I got here and it's not there,” she hesitated. “And everyone who has access to his office is standing in this room.”

“What are you saying?” Melinda spoke up for the first time, just as Elena exploded, “You think one of us here did it?”

Everyone glared at Raina as the implication set in. “Well then, I’m just going to murder Mom, I’ll be right back,” Elena snapped sarcastically, then turned on her heel and left the room, as well as the conversation unfinished.

A tense silence fell upon those who remained, each glancing at the others with stony expressions, with Jemma’s more suspicious than others. Bobbi looked more resigned than anything and collapsed on the nearest couch.

“So,” Phil spoke up hesitantly. “Grilled cheese sandwich?”

* * *

After the disaster of their family meeting, everyone retreated to their old rooms save for Jemma, who made her way to the library. It was one of her favorite places in this massive townhouse, floor-to-ceiling shelves spanning from wall to wall, illuminated by a large window at the end of the room.

She breathed in the smell of old books, grounding herself back on earth after spending so much time in space. Her feet took her in front of the fireplace, where a large portrait hung on the mantle.

_Daisy._

“It’s nice your Dad kept that after all this time,” a voice interrupted her train of thought, and Jemma turns around to look at her oldest friend standing by the door. He’d known. He had always known where to find her.

“Sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days,” Jemma said softly, turning back to the lifelike painting looming over them. “That’s how long she’s been gone for.”

Unlike the rest of the paintings Phil had commissioned of the Academy, this one of Daisy’s didn’t have her signature eye mask on, and her light brown eyes seemed to sparkle with life. She was in their uniform, though there was a streak of purple peeking out from underneath her hair.

It had happened so fast, Jemma remembered sadly. They were having dinner after a mission and Daisy was enduring taunts about how far she could manipulate vibration forces from the rest of them. Determined to prove something, she had stretched her limits until she suddenly disappeared from view… and never came back.

Sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days.

“I used to leave a lot of lights on and some snacks in case she came back,” Jemma admitted with a sigh. She felt Fitz approach her from behind and relished in the feeling of having him near, despite it being her decision to stay away from him for his own good.

Fitz chuckled. “And I, erm, remember eating the snacks so the rats wouldn’t get… them.” Tentatively, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I’m, uh, sorry for your loss, Jem.”

Fitz wasn’t part of the Academy, but he was Phil’s nephew who had nowhere to go after his father abandoned him. Fury, convinced by Mom, had reluctantly allowed Fitz to stay with them provided he helped out. He was quick to befriend Daisy, Bobbi, and Jemma, but it was to Jemma he became especially close with.

Until it developed into something more, and he was dumped in the bottom of the ocean by one of their enemies for it.

Jemma could spend the rest of her life blaming herself for it, but for today, she was just relieved he was there. She reached up to clasp his hand and then turned to tuck herself into his embrace.

“Thanks for being here,” she said, the unspoken apology for abandoning him hanging in midair. “When did things get this bad? My sisters and I used to get along with each other so well,” she murmured into his shirt.

Fitz drew her in closer. 

* * *

They started with a bank heist, relatively simple but challenging enough with a hostage situation and a bomb involved.

Jemma made quick work of the explosive, cool, calm, and completely unfazed by the bomb's sophisticated wirings—there was nothing she couldn't solve, after all. Daisy was blasting the robbers away from them, their bodies making a thud as they landed on the floor, while Bobbi was in hot pursuit of one who was making his getaway, a duffel stuffed with stolen bills slung over his shoulder.

In a couple of strides, she caught on to him and yanked him around to face her. “I heard a rumor…” Immediately, the guy’s eyes glazed over and she smirked triumphantly. “You were gonna drop that bag and turn yourself in.”

Elena rushed to the group of hostages in a blur of navy blue and white—their uniform and eye mask—and in a matter of seconds, freed them from their restraints. She shepherded them in a line and ushered them out to the nearest exit.

Raina, standing guard, glanced at Number Six with a wicked grin. "There are still three more guys in the vault."

Kora grinned back. “I can do it.” Her hands glowed as she aimed pure energy at the lock mechanism until it gave way, and she disappeared inside, closing the door behind her. Everyone watched in fascination as more light filtered through the gaps, then Kora came out with the three guys in tow, looking slightly worse for wear and smelling distinctly of burnt fabric, but otherwise unharmed.

The girls towed the perpetrators outside, joining Elena on the building’s steps where she was waving to the crowd that had gathered around the bank to see what was going on.

Young Melinda, watching them from her vantage point on the rooftop of the next building, looked forlorn as she took off her monitoring earpiece and handed it to Fury.

“Dad…” she attempted, trying not to sound as pathetic as she felt. “Why can’t I join them?”

Fury’s face is unreadable, his lone eye looking at her with ill-disguised contempt. “I’m afraid there’s just nothing special about you.” With a swish of his long trench coat, he walked away from her and made his way down to the pandemonium below them, his imposing figure allowing him to pass through the crowd easily.

Melinda was The Cavalry, an honorific more than anything else. She got to strategize, call the shots and had intel on all the missions, but wasn’t even allowed to train with the others. It had gone on for as long as she could remember, even way back when they were kids. One time, Dad even brought a tattoo artist home and directed everyone to get the same emblem of an eagle on their wrist—except her.

She looked on sadly as Fury joined the Academy on the steps, a rare look of pride on his face. She drowned him out as he officially introduced them to the press, the police, and the onlookers; instead observing the triumphant expressions on her sisters’ faces. It _had_ been a near-flawless operation with everyone doing their part, as best as she could strategize them.

A couple of phrases cut through her train of thoughts— _“Director Fury, are you concerned about the welfare of the children?” “Of course. As I am for the fate of the world.”_ —but otherwise, Melinda turned her focus on packing up her stuff.

Despite being left out, their first mission was a sound success, and it could only get better from here.

Right?

* * *

It had started raining by the time everyone finally gathered at the courtyard, Fury’s ashes in a marble urn cradled in Jemma’s arms, Fitz holding an umbrella behind her. Bobbi and Melinda were huddled under another umbrella, Raina, Phil, and Mom under another, while Elena resolutely stood under the pouring rain, leaning against the base of Kora’s memorial statue.

“Erm, okay. Who wants to start?” Jemma looked hopeful as she glanced around. Everyone immediately averted their eyes or lowered their heads, except for Mom who was looking curiously at the skies, and Phil who gave her an encouraging smile as if to say, _go ahead_.

She waited a few more seconds and, hearing no response, finally relented. “Alright, guess that’s me,” she murmured, then continued in a louder voice. “Dad was many great things. As S.H.I.E.L.D.’s longest-serving Director since Peggy Carter, he ushered the agency into the modern—”

Elena snorted indelicately, loud enough to interrupt Jemma who looked at her confusedly. “Something wrong, Yo-Yo?”

“This is bullshit,” she declared, using her sleeve to wipe the raindrops on her eyes. “We all know Dad was a terrible man, no use pretending otherwise.”

“Elena!”

“You know it’s true!” Elena said heatedly, finally standing up straight and glaring at her sisters. “There’s no point in us pretending otherwise, I don’t even know why we’re even bothering with this.”

She made to walk out again but Bobbi blocked her way, a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “Have some respect, why don’t you?”

“What do _you_ know about respect?” Elena argued, pushing Bobbi’s hand off her. “Learned that from your previous marriage, didn’t you? How did you rumor him into divorcing you this time?”

_Slap._

Everyone gasped as Bobbi's hand collided with Elena's cheek, but before she could say or do anything else, Elena pulled her hair and drew her into a body lock. The fight evolved quickly, both well-adapt in combat after S.H.I.E.L.D. training, and although Bobbi was taller Elena used her height to her advantage.

“Enough! Enough!” Jemma was yelling with tears in her eyes while Melinda looked on helplessly as Phil and Fitz tried to pull the ladies apart.

“Just like old times,” Elena taunted. “Bet you’re loving this.”

Mom continued to look benignly at the courtyard as if unaware of what was happening when suddenly a strong gust of wind rattled the glass windows surrounding them.

Phil had turned around just in time. “Aida, watch out!”

Elena sprung in action, speeding Mom away from Kora’s statue as it toppled over and broke into several large chunks strewn all over the backyard.

“What’s happening?” Melinda yelled, her hair whipping in her face as she looked around. Strangely, in the middle of the courtyard was a vortex of wind and lightning, simultaneously sucking up and spitting leaves and other debris. She thought she saw the outline of an old woman but it disappeared immediately before she could confirm it.

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly," Jemma guessed, her hand firmly against the cover of Dad's urn.

Bobbi hurled one of the statue’s broken pieces into the vortex, though no one expected it to say, “Ow!”

Something—rather, some _one_ —was coming out it, and everyone waited with bated breath, ready to attack if needed until a body fully formed right in front of them. A teenager, with purple streaks peeking out from underneath her hair.

Everyone gaped in shock.

Daisy grinned as if she'd only been gone for a day. "Hey, guys."

**Number Five**

**"Quake"**

“Phil, can you make me a coffee please?” Daisy requested as she wolfed down her third grilled cheese sandwich.

Melinda looked like she was about to protest that no thirteen-year-old should be drinking coffee when Daisy beat her to the punch. “S’okay, Mel. I’m sixty years old already.”

“How did this _happen_?” Jemma is in full Scientist mode, her eyes lit up the way they did whenever faced with something new. “You were always the mystery I couldn’t solve; everyone knows I’ve tried for the first few years you’ve been gone!”

“Apparently, I projected my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time,” Daisy answered with her mouth full, which made Mom chastise with a gentle, “Daisy!”

"Ah!" Jemma exclaimed at the same time Raina said, "That makes no sense."

Daisy shrugged. “Basically, I time traveled and around 40 years have passed for me. I didn't know I'd come back to this body but hey, no complaints."

“Okaaaaay," Elena sounded skeptical, and for the first time that day, Bobbi actually agreed with her.

The wheels were turning in Jemma’s mind. “Ooh, so you developed a new ability by accident, _fascinating_.” She started rattling off some scientific mumbo-jumbo that no one else could understand.

“So where’d you go?” Melinda asked.

For the first time since she arrived Daisy looked terrified, though the odd expression was gone in an instant. “That’s classified,” she demurred, then changed the topic. “Heard you guys fighting on the other side, by the way. Nice going, thought you weren’t thirteen anymore.” She looked pointedly at Bobbi and Elena.

“Yo-Yo started it,” Bobbi protested, then fell silent as if realizing how she just proved Daisy’s point.

Elena snickered, then stood up and started shrugging into her leather jacket, patting her pockets until she was satisfied. “Well, this has been a nice family reunion, but I’ve got to go. More important things to do with my time.”

“Good luck on your next mission,” she dared one last taunt at Bobbi. “Hope it goes better than your last marriage.”

Bobbi rolled her eyes.

Daisy took a huge gulp of her coffee and stood up herself, straightening the school uniform she’d been wearing the night she disappeared. “Hey, Yo-Yo, drop me off at the Speakeasy?”

“Thought you could travel anywhere?” Elena responded, but didn’t actually say no.

After leaving a kiss on Mom's smooth porcelain cheek while Daisy gave a high-five to Phil with a "Great sandwiches, missed them so much!" the pair left in a blur.

“Marvelous!” Aida clapped her hands and beamed at everyone. “We should do this more often!”

Raina, who had been silent for the past few minutes under the spell of a vision, snapped out of her reverie and glanced at Melinda with curiosity and a little fear.

**Number Seven**

**"The Cavalry"**

Later that night, Melinda was getting ready for bed when a knock came at the door.

“Five,” she exclaimed, letting her sister into her apartment. “Sorry— _Daisy_. It was kind of hard to say your name for a while after you disappeared.”

Daisy looked around the space. It was nothing as grandiose as their family townhouse, but it was clean and organized if a little sparsely decorated. She sat down on the couch and fidgeted, clearly nervous about something.

While it had been a few hours, the shock of having Daisy back hadn’t completely worn off yet. Not especially when Daisy still retained the appearance of her teenage self, but her eyes are different—battle-hardened and haunted with grief.

It’s not unlike the face she sees every day in front of the mirror.

Melinda folded herself on an armchair across where her sister sat and waited quietly, the way she knew from so long ago how to encourage Daisy to talk.

“I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust,” Daisy finally began without much preamble. “Because you’re ordinary, because you’ll listen.”

She’s been told she was ordinary for so long, this didn’t even hurt.

“When I disappeared, I got stuck in the future. I even thought I was in space, but…” Daisy trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. “The world had cracked apart like an egg and as far as I could tell, I was the last person alive.”

“Daisy…” Melinda’s heart ached more than she thought it was even possible.

“I think it was me, _mèimei_. I’m the Destroyer of Worlds,” Daisy’s voice was a whisper, barely registering that Melinda had moved to sit next to her until she felt an arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into it, starved for human touch for so long. Growing up, she had been closest to Jemma and considered The Scientist her best friend in the entire world. But her and Melinda’s relationship had also been special, bonded over their shared heritage and in both ways sisterly and maternal in nature.

Between them, it didn’t matter whether one was gifted and the other was ordinary.

To her, Melinda was solid and trustworthy. Often overlooked in favor of her flashier sisters, but Daisy shuddered to think of their family without The Cavalry.

And she hated the thought that she wasn't around for the past decade or so to let her know that if the sorrow that seemed to hover over her now was anything to go by.

Daisy allowed herself a moment to be comforted before pressing on. “I don’t know what caused that future, but I do know something else. The date it happens.”

Here, she lifted her head from Melinda’s embrace, wanting to look into her eyes, needing her to believe. “The world ends in eight days and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Whatever Melinda was expecting, it sure wasn’t that. She sighed, trying to take it all in.

“I’ll make some tea.”


End file.
